Benjamin Peter Morgendoffer
by Veleriphon
Summary: From Highland, TX comes an officer of the peace Jake Morgendorffer, Helen his wife, Quinn his daughter and youngest child, and then there's Ben. An outcast for sure, Ben's enjoyment of sarcasm has left him solitary. Where will these deviations take us? Rated T for... well, it's Daria fanfiction. If you've seen the show or watched it air on MTV in the 90's, you get the idea.
1. Now Arriving in Laaawwwndale

A/N: I keep running back to various ideas about Daria. This work will include a few of them. Nobody really, really deviates from Daria herself much. It's not that there aren't fics where she isn't a bit different, or as in the case of the fic Darius Morgendorffer, gender-swapped. I had an idea about Jake having been an officer of the peace instead of an over-reactive consultant. Somewhere along the line, Ben happened instead of our beloved Daria. This will deviate from the original work, which I obviously don't own. I'm only going to tag Ben as my property for now. This will probably go the way of Ben/Jane, because: what not? Gotta love people who know their passion. Oh dear, more ideas...

Daruis is the property of TheAngstGuy. Google it. It's a darn good story!

I don't know where this fic is headed. Well, I have ideas...

I may have more fun writing this than my other story. Not that I'm going to neglect one or the other, but writing two different fics concurrently is a challenge I have, so far, avoided for no good reason.

On with the show!

La la la, la la!

* * *

A blue Suburban driven by one Jake Morgendorffer carried his two children: daughter Quinn and son Benjamin.  
Jake was dressed in a Sheriff's tan and dark brown ensemble, complete with a Stetson hat emblazoned with a Sheriff's badge laying on the dashboard. His bark brown hair was shaped to those hats. Not that anything could obscure his nearly lantern jaw and blue eyes. Quinn had her signature pink, skin-tight, form-revealing shirt and blue jeans. Her orangish-red, shoulder-length hair with a lily framed her blue-eyed, barely-there-freckled, fair complexioned face. Ben had a dark tan shirt, black jean shorts, heavy boots, and a dark green outer jacket with Lawndale County Deputy shield badges on the shoulders. His genetics put his hair dark like Jake's, but still a shade of red. But Ben's green eyes and rounded features set him apart from the other occupants of the vehicle.

* * *

I stared through my round-cornered glasses at the passing scenery whizzing by the passenger window in a blur, "Tell me again, dad. Why did we move here?"

"Your mother got a job offer here that beat out any other offer she'd ever seen." Dad easily passed another vehicle, "Think of this as an opportunity. You get to start over... again. Make new friends. That kind of thing!"

My hand went to the radio to turn up the volume, "Sorry, can't hear you over the radio!"

As we turned into the circle in front of Lawndale High, Dad kept trying, "Don't be upset if it takes the other kids time to get used to you. You'll make friends."

He hadn't totally stopped the car as Quinn hopped out with, "Bye dad, gotta go."

"I wish she wouldn't do that..."

I deadpanned, "I'll do what I can to help her through this difficult period of adjustment."

"That's my boy..." Dad started, but before he could complete his realization, I had already closed the door. The man shook his head, "Dammit."

Quinn was immediately assailed by various vapid beings after any sort of attention or someone to latch onto. One of the males tried to ask her out, while two of the girls managed to strike up a conversation about her fashion prowess.

Sandi Griffin with her nasal voice, spied me exiting the car Quinn has just left, "Good Gahd. That, is the wurst fashion disaster I've ever seen."

Sis impishly shifted her eyes, "He's adopted."

However decent I may have looked, I repelled nearly everyone within view with only a look of disconnection, leaving me to walk into school alone. I liked solitude a little more than most. But damn if it wasn't for that, how would I have time to read or squeeze off a few rounds at the range?

We went to the offices of Principal Li; a short, Asian man who practically reeked of a hyperactive suspicious nature, "Ah, you must be the Morgendorffers. I'm Andrew Li. You're Quinn and... Benjamin, isn't it?" He didn't bother getting up from his chair behind the mahogany desk to shake our hands.

My ever present poker face refused to reveal a reaction, but my voice betrayed me, "That's us."

"Welcome to Laaaawwwndale High. May your time here be productive."

Quinn shifted her eyes here and there, "Um, I kind of need to use the ladies' room. I'll just be-"

The Asian principal lifted his hand, "We'll stop by there first on our tour. Shall we?"

* * *

To round out our brief tour, Mr. Li stopped the party at the school counselor's office, "As per our placement requirements, you'll both have to take a brief psychological exam."

"But I-" Quinn panicked.

I gently rested my hand on her shoulder, "There's no grading."

"Oh..." She visibly relaxed, going to open the door.

By now, Mr. Li had already left them to their own devices. I glimpsed around, "Man, he's like a ninja."

Quinn swiveled her gaze to me, "A what?"

I sighed, "Never mind. Let's get this over with so we can start school."

Eventually were seated at a table opposite an older, brunette woman with reading glasses perched on her nose like an ancient school master. She lifted a large card with a silhouette of a man and a woman, "Quinn, what do you see here?"

The girl tilted her head and touched her fingertip to her chin in thought, "Two people talking."

The counselor nodded, "Mmm-hmm and what are they talking about?"

Quinn proceeded with some nonsense about her berating him over their last date. Apparently he didn't get the right gift, failed to pick an expensive enough restaurant, and then had left her to fend for her own ride him. If that's what dating is supposed to be like, screw that.

Now Mrs. Manson- I must be the only one thinking "Charles" when I hear that surname -turned to me, "What do you see, Ted?"

"It's Ben."

"Uh, oh. Ben. Well, what do you see here, Ted?"

I resorted to my nuclear arsenal with gusto, "A herd of beautiful, wild ponies running free across the plain."

She was annoyed by my answer and glowered at me as best she could, "No, that's another test, dear."

Quinn had a little bit of fear mixed in with her annoyance at me. Not that I let her know I had even seen her reaction.

"Looks like an inkblot test to me. First thing to come to mind." I shrugged.

"This one is just two people."

Nukes are touchy, but they're so encompassing you don't need to really aim them, "Okay, they're two people talking-" The counselor relaxed a little before hearing the rest, "-about a herd of beautiful, wild ponies running free across the plain."

I caught a glimpse of her teeth as she clenched her jaw. I couldn't help a barely noticeable smile that crept onto my face.

* * *

Dad, Quinn, and my emotionally tired butt sat around our cozy dinner table, while mom had the telephone glued to her head. We haven't opted for one of those cordless deals yet. With Quinn here, I doubt we would ever see the poor thing again.

Mom was easy to overhear with nobody else talking, for once, "Hang on, Eric. I have another call." _Beep, "_Hello? Yes, this is Helen Morgendorffer. What? Yes, those are my children. Where are you goi-. Oh, is this something my assistant could handle? I see. Thank you, Mr. Principal." _Beep, _"Eric? I'll call you in the morning. Yes, jet lag and 'all that'. Bye." _Beep._

She walked over to the table to join us in our new ritual of no-longer-frozen lasagna, "You kids took a psych test at school?" I detected the mere hint of surprise in her words.

Quinn had a look of surprise more than panic, "We weren't supposed to be graded!"

I looked back at mom, who instead looked in my direction and said, "Ben, it seems you'll have to take a special class."

Sis pointed at me and exclaimed, "YOU flunked the test!?"

Mom nearly glared at Quinn, "No he didn't. Neither did you, hon." Turning back to gaze at me she continued, "Apparently you have low self-esteem." She ranted for a moment about all the reassuring talk I hadn't heard back in Highland.

I audibly took a breath and her rant ceased, "I don't have low self-esteem." There was no hiding my amusement, it wanted out, "I just have low esteem for everyone else."

Mom and Quinn didn't mirror my mood, but they kept quiet.

Dad on the other hand, put down the paper he had been avoiding us all with, "Son, just promise me you'll try to make one, DECENT friend here?" He nearly yelled the word 'decent' and why not? He had a good point.

Beavis and Butthead were not decent people, but they breathed. If you can call them humans without enraging the masses, good luck. I couldn't talk to them on an intellectual level, but they did things. Sometimes horrible things, but something was preferable to nothing in my book. Speaking of my book, good night.


	2. A Zon- -ing Out Period

Mornings in our house have become brief mutterings and burnt toast. Oh, I'm forgetting the burnt coffee. Dad's gotta burn the crap out of it, "Otherwise it just don't taste right" he said once. Quinn made sure to hog the bathroom before I could get in there for my ten minutes. Don't know how she's so sneaky. Too bad she doesn't put the same effort into school that she puts into her social life. Not my place to really say anything.

I lazily walked to school. Sure there's a bus, but it's only a mile. Kids these days...

So the first day of school at Laaawwndale High. Wonder if I'm the only one who can't get that jerk's voice out of my head? I knew it was a non-zero possibility that there could be a few of my fellow students who would give me a run for my money. Most of them are safely near or below a C average. But then there was Mr. DeMartino. History class. Favorite. Subject.

He just had to start in with the new kid, too. His eye was more exclamatory than his correlating highly-inflected voice, nearly yelling certain words he wanted to point out.

"We have a NEW STUDENT today, class. Ben Morgendorffer, WHERE are YOU?" Spotting my hand up, he took the bait to quiz me. I don't know how I didn't show the big, stupid grin I felt welling up inside me. "Can you unemotionally, and quickly sum up the phrase MANIFEST DESTINY?"

"Manifest Destiny was popular in the eighteen-fifties. Some people believed it was God's will for America to expand to the Pacific Ocean. These people did not include many Mexicans."

"VERY good, Ben." That bulging eye... "Almost, suspiciously good." He scanned the room for another victim. Upon spotting someone behind me, this football player who hadn't taken off his uniform OR his pads, DeMartino nearly shouted, "KEVIN!"

"Yeah? What's up Mr. D.?" I fixed my eyes on the clock, trying my best not to do an eyeroll.

"Kevin, do me a favor... No, do YOURSELF a favor and pretend you read the chapter so that you can tell me during which war was Manifest Destiny used as a POLITICAL rallying cry." The man grew more irritated. I didn't think that was possible, given his outward physical dysfunction.

"Um, the Vietnam war?"

"Son. That war was a LITTLE bit later. About a HUNDRED YEARS LATER!" DeMartino calmed down a bit with a deep breath, "A lot of good people DIED in that war, Kevin. I think we OWE it to them to get the CENTURY RIGHT!" He decided to go with one of the girls in the class, "Brittney. Can YOU tell me what war I'm looking for?"

Her squeaky voice made me wince now and then, "Um, the Viet- -cong war?"

Now his rage was really building, "Unless SOMEONE tells me the answer, you're all getting DOUBLE homework and a QUIZ tomorrow!"

There was no way in hell I was missing this opportunity, so I raised my hand. His calm response was surprising, to say the least, "Ben, stop showing off."

* * *

Of all the males this world contained, Mr. O'Neil had to be down near Kevin's level. Poor Kevin, I caught myself wondering before I'd said it aloud. Self-esteem class was the silliest thing I had ever come across. The 'man' couldn't deviate from the lecture, even if I had questions pertinent to the section he was on.

I doodled a caricature of him as a scarecrow with a crow flying off with one of his eyeballs in its beak. I heard a stifled chuckle behind me. Turning to see whom was amused, my eyes fixed upon a pale, athletic, blue-eyed, unevenly cut black-haired girl with a blood red jacket contrasting against her black shirt beneath that. And red lipstick...

"Earth to... Ben, was it?"

I blinked back to reality. Somehow, my subconscious managed to output a subtle smile I didn't bother getting rid of. I quickly covered for myself, "A pretty woman who gets satire? Considering what I've seen so far, I had assumed Mr. Li drove those into extinction."

Her eyes widened just a bit, "Uh..." Her brain went to a B.S.o.D. on me.

I salvaged the situation, "Yeah, Ben Morgendorffer, and you are?"

Blinking hard, she restarted, "Lane, Jane Lane."

I spied a mark of red paint on her neck and proceeded to hand over my sketch, "Here, do what you can."

Taking the piece of paper, Jane gave a subtle grin, "You're on, Morgendorffer."

I had to turn back to O'Neil before he started asking what we were talking about. Thankfully, the guy stuck to his script and kept going without interrupting himself. Which, really, was rather weird. What teacher wouldn't be bothered by students blatantly not paying attention?

Anyway, as I got to my locker to deposit my books, Jane caught up to me and showed me what she'd done. She altered the eyeball into a testicle and the crows were now demonic. Not to mention, the face was now in agony... as the scarecrow body was now on fire.

Neither of us could stop laughing for a good five minutes. When I regained some composure, I put my hand on her shoulder and said, "I like the cut of your jib, Jane. I'm hiring you as my personal artist."

Now Jane deadpanned, JANE! "I bet the pay is a joke and the hours suck. Why the hell not?"

Walking out of the building, I was a little surprised when she put her arm up around my shoulder. She gave me a questioning look at that reaction, at least until I put my arm around her waist. We didn't say anything else till we were halfway to downtown.

That's when I looked around and wondered, "Where the heck did you drag me to, now?"

She gave me an accusatory look, "Me?! You're the one that just kept walking!"

Her arm went a little slack as if to get a little distance between us and I just held onto her. I smirked as I eyed her, "Cute when you're angry."

She got flustered, pretty sure I saw some red in her face that wasn't there before, and looked down for a split-second, "I'm not ang... fine Ben, you win this round." Her arm went back to hanging on. I have to admit, I liked that. A lot.

I jumped when without warning she shouted, "Oh the Zon! I know where we are!"

Looking over at the crappy (I wish I was exaggerating, I'm not), dilapidated building with this barely lit neon sign that read '_The ZON', _I asked, "The Zon?"

"Yeah. My..." Jane paused and had this distant feel to her expression, "...brother... has this band, Mystic Spiral. They play at the Zon every so often." She looked off to this dark corner just beside the building, "Well, the Tank is there. That means they're playing tonight." She flicked her gaze onto my face, "What say you, Morgendorffer?"

I had to shrug, having no better idea, "Why the hell not?"

She gave me a grin.

There was this part of me that wanted to have my free arm reach over to hold onto her so the rest of me would make out with her. I wasn't totally sure that part of my mind wasn't just hormones, and it kinda freaked me out. Not that I couldn't hide my thoughts, but she did, for the briefest of split-seconds, give me a questioning look as we entered the dump that was, _The Zon.  
_

* * *

Apparently I was underestimating just how much of a dump the Zon was. Turns out, I was glad I had boots on. You do NOT want to know what was on that floor. Come to think of it, I'm not terribly sure myself. Regardless, Jane pulled me through the angst-ridden crowd that populated this South end of a garbage disposal plant. Speaking of a waste disposal plant, this place was loud as hell. It's a crappy, townie bar. Oh well. Eventually we made it to a table you stand at where she tried to let go of me and I relented, finally. I looked around for a moment, letting Jane do ... whatever it was she was off to do.

After a couple of minutes, somebody put a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see this- person. I think I lack the depravity to appropriately describe his or, more likely, her, appearance. Black hair like Jane's but shorter and tattoos running down the sides of the face where a guy's sideburns might normally be, a beaten up light brown shirt with a couple of random gray patches sewn on, earrings all over the ears and studs on the outside of each eyebrow, a plush wristband with a gray lightening bolt on it, and a few rings here and there.

I must have recognized more similarities to Jane by then, because I wondered aloud, "You're Jane's brother, right?" I'd been contemplating a policy of no physical contact with him, but my subconscious won again and I extended my hand.

He took it and gave a shake. A raspy, but still feminine voice marred by a few years of cigarettes was loosed forth, "Yeah." He coughed, "Trent. Nice to meet you...?" he trailed off.

"Ben Morgendorffer." I took my hand back, but didn't offer up any more conversation.

He took over though, "So how do you know Janey?" Another few coughs; at least he covered his mouth.

A thought crept into my head, _Soft hands but calloused fingertips? _I covered for myself again, "I just started at Lawndale High yesterday. Turns out we have a few classes together."

He gave a gentle smile and uttered, "Cool."

Jane got back or decided to make herself known at that point by pushing a drink in a Solo cup into my hands, "Found my brother? Cool." She took a sip from her Solo cup and asked aloud, "What do you think of this place?"

Holding my cup, I glimpsed around the hole, "It certainly depicts late decay. Overall? Not too far off what I _imagine_ a meth lab might look like."

Jane and Trent both gave me a warning look, as if I shouldn't talk about that sort of thing any further. I took a testing sip of the drink that had been handed to me. It was certainly fruity and there was a certain zing I couldn't place.

She pointed at me with a teasing grin, "Ha! Look at the newbie! He's never had alcohol in his life."

I took a drink of it and it somehow tasted better this time, "This stuff's pretty good, Lane." There was no holding back my teasing her, "I know you're trying to get me drunk and take me home, but I do wonder one thing."

Her confused, sly smirk told me what I wanted to know, "What's that?"

"What is this?"

"They call it 'Moon Juice'. I call it decent." She stepped up beside me and whispered, "It's got plenty of Everclear, so don't drink it fast. Okay?"

I soon realized I had started to sweat a little, "Is it warm in here, or is that just because you're right next to me?"

Jane blushed and I grinned like an idiot. She got her mind back together pretty quick and socked me in the arm, "That's called alcohol, Morgendorffer." She gestured to Trent in realization, "Hey! You're on next. Knock 'em dead."

As Trent made his way back into the crowd, I said to Jane, "I didn't ask what he played."

I took another drink, less this time, while Jane started, and stuttered, "She- he plays electric guitar. Has been since she was little. HE! He was little." Jane took a big gulp of her drink, "God that's confusing!"

As we stood there with our finished drinks listening to Mystic Spiral, a server girl came by and offered to get us refills. I knew this place was a dump, but they weren't even checking I.D.'s. As the chick wandered off, I said to Jane, "At least they know how to play a chord or two."

"You haven't heard them practice..." She looked off to where the server chick had disappeared, "Now I need that second drink."

A screech rang out from the stage speakers, only a few of us seemed to have the hearing capacity to actually be nearly injured by it. Trent let his hands fly from his guitar and glared at this blonde dude with an electric base, "Dammit, man! What the hell was that?!"

Looking down, the poor bastard lifted the end of his guitar. Trent looked over at, what I thought was us, and yelled, "I thought you were replacing the frayed cords!"

A big, old-school biker yelled back, "If I made good money when you played, I would!"

The band started packing up instead of starting a riot. Jessie's idea, I bet. Trent looked like she, or rather he wanted a fight. I was starting to see Jane's difficulty with her sibling.

* * *

Free from the clutches of that vile pit called the Zon, Jane and I made our way back to the area we both called home. It was then I realized, "Crap, my mom's going to be pissed..."

She looked at me quizzically. I explained, "I've never been the one to be irresponsible. Always early to get home, always dependable..."

"And now you've stayed out one night after your first day at a new school." For the second time today, but with a smirk Jane deadpanned, "I'll forge you a hall pass."

I let out a breath into the warm wind, "Yeah, that'll work."

Jane gave me a funny look as if saying '_what the hell?'._

So I told her, "Mom's a lawyer. Take charge 'n all that kinda stuff."

She nodded with a comprehending murmur.

It was then I spotted dad's SUV, "And here we are..." I pointed to our brick facade house, "Casa Morgendorffer."

I stopped my momentum and turned to Jane, "What about your parents?"

"Eh," she shrugged. "Dad's off on a photography assignment. Not sure where. Mom? Probably some art colony that likes fancy ceramic creations."

Her indifference toward her parents was a little unsettling, but eventually I too, shrugged, "And I thought direct intervention by parental units was weird."

"Yeah. I'll take '_Benign neglect'_ for five hundred, Alex."

We both smirked. Jane asked, "Well?"

"Well what?"

This feeling of dread washed over her and landed on her body language, "We ... could try to explain..."

"Well, they're parents. The truth does find its way to them. Even if it does a year later."

I didn't even get to open the damn door. Mom threw it open when I reached for the handle, "There you are! We've been worried sick!"

"Yeah, I was..."

Bitch cut me off, "Out without permission on a school night."

I cut her rant shorter than she was expecting, "For the first time in my life!"

Dad stepped into the conversation, from beside his SUV, "I figured he'd be fine, honey. Boy's gotta have some time away from us eventually." He made his way over to the door with ease, "Let us know where you're at and with whom when next you decide to take a long walk."

Jane helped break up the tension, "We left school and were talking. We just kept right on walking and talking. Before we knew it, we were downtown."

Dad nodded to Jane in acknowledgement and turned to mom, "Let's not worry about it, this time. I'm famished."

That's when I realized I'd missed that initial social grace of introductions, "Mom, dad. This is Jane Lane." The two of us put an arm over one another's shoulder in a fraternal matter.

"We have a few classes together, actually."

I added with a cheeky grin, "Maybe now Jane can get her history grade past a C."

Jane elbowed me in my side. She may be skinny, but she has some BONEY elbows.

Mom and dad both looked out the door at us, "May as well come in for dinner."

"I- uh..." I knew her eyes were darting back and forth, trying to think of a way out. There wasn't one, "Really?"

I murmured to her, "_probably nuk__ed lasagna._"

She got this weird '_I don't give a crap'_ look on her face, "Better than stale pizza from three days ago." Her fingers went to her chin in a thoughtful pose, "At least, I think it was three days ago we ordered pizza."

Mom and dad had absconded to the kitchen. I jokingly put my hand on the lower part of Jane's neck, like I was going to pick up a reluctant puppy, "Come on, Lane. Time for your feeding."


End file.
